


Degeneration

by zsomeone



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Zombie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-28
Updated: 2010-10-28
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:29:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zsomeone/pseuds/zsomeone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombie POV fic.   Nathan doesn’t remember how he died, so you don’t get to know either.  The band has somehow brought him back with that damn book of theirs.  (He doesn’t even realize that he’s dead.)<br/>*For the record, this kind of zombie isn’t contagious.*</p><p>This was written for the Back From the Dead contest, and it won me the S3 DVD (1st place)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Degeneration

Awake? Where... What...  
Too much screaming.  
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” The words have an odd hollow quality, echoing as if from a distance. I understand them though.  
But then, too many voices at once, mixing together. Can’t understand.  
What’s’ wrong with me?

“...alive!”  
“...book... again...”  
Book? Huh?  
“...naught sahrry!”  
“Oh shits!”  
Shut up!

I open my eyes, they don’t want to focus. Annoying.  
Surrounded.  
Who are they? They sound afraid.  
They are afraid? Of me?  
Can’t think right. What happened? Something must have happened.  
Can’t remember.

Five faces looking down on me.  
Familiar? Still can’t focus.  
One leans closer and I grab blond hair, pulling him down, trying to see. Skwisgaar?  
Screaming, screaming. Why?  
Stop screaming!  
Noise, it hurts! I let go, and he retreats again.

“He moved, maybe he can stand up.” I _know_ that voice... Can’t place it.  
Can’t think.  
Hangover? Feels wrong.  
He is close now. “Do you know who I am?”  
Close enough to focus. I have to think about it for a minute, try to place him.  
Charles. Manager. I nod.

He takes my arm firmly, but his touch feels strange, not right.  
I let him pull me up. I can stand.  
“I’d like you all to stay away from him until I can figure out what we’re dealing with.” Away? Dealing with?  
What is going on?  
“Let’s get you to your room.”  
I go where he leads me.

****

I lie on my bed, looking at my arm.  
Something is wrong with it.  
Skin feels funny, too soft.  
Almost greasy?  
Color is funny too.  
Do I smell? I need a shower.

To the bathroom.  
I don’t like walking, body feels wrong. Like asleep, but not. No tingling.  
Still can’t see right, can’t think. Why?  
Mirror? I have one.  
Lean close, can’t focus. Light too bright. Squint.  
Is this who I am?

This face...  
Like the others, familiar but strange.  
Can’t look anymore. Shower.  
Water is hot? Steaming. I can’t feel hot or cold?  
Too strange.  
I wash, wash off the funny feeling. Try to.

Towel. Am I dry? Can’t tell.  
Go back to my bed.  
Man with no face, plates. Servant guy.  
He smells better than the food he brings.  
I don’t eat.  
What’s wrong with me? Fix it!

I can’t sleep.  
One of the others comes in. Which one? Afraid?  
Wish he’d come closer, I feel so alone.  
Can’t focus.  
Closer... still can’t see.  
I know him, don’t I? Don’t I?

Closer. He touches my arm.  
I feel the pressure, not the touch. Weird.  
He smells so sweet.  
Closer. He pats my head.  
I can see him now. I know him. Toki.  
Pats me like a dog?

I grab his arm.  
Didn’t know I was going to do that. Huh.  
He freezes. Afraid again?  
Holding him close, smelling him. Sweet.  
_Now_ I’m hungry.  
Weird.

He pulls away from me, backing away.  
Out the door. Gone.  
I look at the plate, don’t want.  
Am I sick?  
I’m confused, so confused.  
So alone.

****

All of them. Chairs. Table.  
Familiar, so familiar.  
Charles talks. About me?  
Can’t pay attention.  
I look at them. We’re not the same color.  
Is that new?

Over? They get up, leave.  
I follow, want company.  
Hate being alone.  
Hot tub. Oh!  
But they all jump out when I put my foot in.  
Why?

Couches now. Okay.  
Nobody sits near me.  
He pats my head as he passes.  
Sits across the room.  
I pick at my fingernails. One falls off.  
Can’t be good.

****

A new room. Black squares line walls.  
I feel so much loss here. Why?  
Crushing, overwhelming. Like a ruined temple.  
What’s a temple?  
I don’t want to be in here, can’t remember what this stuff is. Hate.  
I _should_ know!

They want something.  
Can’t understand.  
Make words I can’t process anymore. Point.  
What do you want?  
Little one grabs something and screams. Pickles?  
Stop screaming!

Pointing at me, to the thing.  
Smell it, not food.  
They make words at each other.  
Pick up things. Shiny black.  
Suddenly, lots of noise!  
Make it stop!

They don’t stop. Noise hurts! Don’t know why.  
Get away! Bad!  
I claw at the door, fingernails peel up.  
Pick them off, no pain.  
Want out! Out!  
But the noise stops.

****

I sit. Or lay down.  
Others come, but stay away  
Too far to see who they are, see if I still know.  
Only one close, manager.  
Tells me not to shower. Why?  
What’s... a shower?

Small moments where I think more clearly.  
What’s wrong with me?  
Why isn’t it fixed?  
I don’t touch my skin anymore, disturbing.  
I smell bad.  
Need a shower?

****

New room.  
Manager put me here.  
Small, filled with steam? Fog? Can’t tell which.  
Shelves, metal door.  
He wears a coat here.  
Why?

Sweet one visits me. Only one.  
His name is lost now. Losing things.  
Sits. Pats my head.  
Smells good. This one, no coat.  
Grab his arm, bite!  
Tastes so sweet.

Screaming again! Hate screaming.  
What am I doing?  
Let go!  
Savor the flesh in my mouth. Sweetest thing _ever_.  
Was that bad? Wrong?  
I don’t know.

Against the wall.  
Not out the door?  
I reach for him again. Hungry!  
Quiet now, standing frozen. Easy.  
Just want more.  
So sweet...

Other man is back. Push me away.  
Speaking. I can’t understand much. Just noise, echos.  
“...out of here! ...dangerous ...not a pet...”  
This one doesn’t smell as good. Not quite.  
Try anyway. No good.  
Too much cloth. Yuck.

****

Every day, worse.  
Feel worse.  
Only the coat one ever comes now.  
Brings things I don’t know what to do with, leaves them.  
How often? Don’t know.  
Time doesn’t exist anymore.

Hungry, but can’t eat what he leaves.  
Tried. Gave up.  
Lonely.  
Don’t want to be here anymore!  
Yank on the door. Locked!  
I don’t know why.

****

Alone.  
Hungry.  
Poke my arm.  
Soft like food?  
Nibble.  
Tastes bad.

Stuck here.  
Door locked?  
Getting worse.  
Hard to think at all.  
Why try?  
Who am I?

****

Pull door.  
Arm falls off.  
Oh.  
Not good.  
Put it back? Try.  
Won’t stay.

Lay down.  
Arm can’t fall now.  
Fingers closer, different.  
Eyes worse. Try to see?  
Bones stick out.  
Brutal.

****

Them again.  
Names all gone now.  
Smell good! Eat!  
He points something, head rocks back.  
Not nice!  
I sit back down.

Still there?  
Surprised? Why?  
Touch my head.  
Hole?  
Finger bone slips inside.  
Whatever.

****

Walking.  
Still can walk?  
Man carries parts.  
Falling apart.  
Outside?  
Outside.

Sticks. Piled.  
Them there. Not close.  
Leads me up.  
Lay here?  
Lay down.  
Parts set beside me.

Speaks. Can’t understand.  
Them crying. Can still hear. Why?  
Alone now.  
New sound. Crackling.  
Louder.  
Brighter.

Fire?  
Not hot, nice.  
Rest now?  
Sleep?  
Fire holds.  
Thoughts die.

****

They all stood together until only ashes remained.  
No words were said, there was nothing to say.  
They had done this.  
The thought of his loss had been too much to bear, but this had been far worse.  
Now they knew.  
Too late, they were sorry.


End file.
